Journey Into Darkness: COME live in L.A.

COME

TARA JANE O'NEIL

BOOTLEG THEATER, LA

19 JUNE, 2013

To call it a reunion is something of a misnomer, I prefer to think of Boston's Come as more of a comet. Sightings, particularly these days, are very rare, but they still burn bright. Coming of age in the great alternative boom of the 90's, they never went big, but they went deep, marking those who heard their music for life. In 2010, the original lineup of Thalia Zedek, Chris Brokaw, Sean O'Brien, and Arthur Johnson came back together to help celebrate Matador 21, and this year's appearance on the horizon is linked to Matador's reissue of their debut LP 11:11. After a short European jaunt, they turned their attention stateside, kicking off the U.S. tour with this date at the Bootleg Theater in L.A.
It was a ferocious set, focused on their first two albums, leading off with debut single "Car" and proceeding at an unrelenting pace. The European dates paid off in spades, as the band was locked in, seemingly oblivious to the years spent apart, hitting on all cylinders. Mission Of Burma, (also from Boston), is the only band I've seen come off a hiatus fully locked and loaded. While not Beethoven, it's certainly not The Ramones, and the various elements that made the band so distinctive originally were fully accounted for: the tense guitar intertwining of Zedek and Brokaw, and the telepathic, and occasionally psychopathic rhythm section of O'Brien and Johnson, steering the dynamic changes of the tunes. Interesting to note that later, O'Brien admitted to having a hard time hearing his bass onstage, and major testimony to his skills that it wasn't at all evident. Johnson's drumming takes on another dimension live, especially in a small room, and his enthusiasm underlined the celebratory nature of what we were seeing. It's so easy to get caught up in the darkness of the songs, and one's own personal connections to them and overlook the fact that being in this room, at this time, was a minor miracle of sorts.
Chris Brokaw, having just played the Bootleg Bar in the front of the house a few short months ago, seemed totally at home, patrolling the edge of the stage, and pulling off his guitar conversation with Zedek flawlessly throughout the night, notably on an epic "Sad Eyes". It was during "Last Mistake", when Zedek abandoned guitar for harmonica, that the enormity of Brokaw's contributions were on display, and the ending jam huddle with the rhythm section was worth of vintage Crazy Horse.
Thalia Zedek, of course, is the hyper magnetic center of things, from the Peter Bagge sticker on her guitar, to Those Songs: a testament of the long and winding road of life. What seem to some like dispatches from the edge of sanity always connected with me for, (if this makes sense), their innate hopefulness. At the end of the line, no matter what comes down, the fact remains that we have made it through, and we are here, now. Initially, Zedek's vocals seemed lost to all but the hardcore in the band's tornado, but her instructions to the sound crew paid dividends, and she was quickly up and riding the waves. Order was completely restored with a towering "Off To One Side", with the band, (sans drummer), communing during the three minute opening instrumental section, before Johnson comes in and all hell breaks loose, with Zedek leading the way. The combination of dirge and fury in the song totally encapsulated the night, as well as the band. "Bell" and "Fast Piss Blues" brought the proceedings home, and for an impromptu encore, they honored the request a fan shouted out earlier in the night, and unleashed a savage "Brand New Vein", perfectly capping the evening.
What's next is anyone's guess...Thalia Zedek and Chris Brokaw have carved out singular solo careers with her Via, and his Gambler's Ecstasy being their most recent releases. Hopefully enough attention will be paid to the reissue of 11:11 that Matador will proceed and honor the rest of their catalogue with the same gusto they bestowed upon Pavement. While they were never the best-selling artist on the label, they were always the band I most aesthetically identified with the label, and in the greatest sense, this night was proof that in some way, you can go home again.

Tara Jane O'Neil, (Rodan, Sonora Pine), opened the evening with a set that ran the gamut from drones to the eventual appearance of a female chorus, drawing heavily from A Ways Away. Her band seemed to include some local recruits, and they did a good job of melding in with her idiosyncratic songs. She held the crowd spellbound throughout, and they seemed to audibly exhale at the set's conclusion. Interesting sidebar: Tara Jane O'Neil was one of a rotating cast of rhythm section members taking part in Come's third LP, Near Life Experience, after the departure of the original team.

(some words on Matador's recent reissue of their debut 11:11)

To tell their story is to tell mine...my entry way to this whole crazy punk adventure was through Patti Smith and Television back in the day, and with that as a frame of reference, it's easy to see why the light bulb went on when i first heard this album. It's so deeply embedded as to be impossible to parse at this point, joining the company of a select few records like Marquee Moon and Daydream Nation that rewired my DNA, and how i listen to music. When i'm asked for a description, all i've ever been able to come up with is: Thermonuclear Blues. Epic guitar flights, harrowing lyrical scenes-to me it's the whole package, capped off by a cover of the Rolling Stones "I've Got The Blues" that bears the same relationship as Husker Du's cover of "Eight Miles High" is to the Byrds original. Sadly, that cover is the missing link in what is a loving restoration by Team Matador, and if that hurdle is what stood in the way of this unlikely event happening, so be it. Fleshed out to a double LP vinyl with a savage recording of the band in their prime at the Vermonstress Festival, it's certainly worth a gander even if you had the original. The real triumph here is how they cut through the murk without cleaving the mystery. Drums are accentuated, intertwined guitar lines thrown into sharper relief. It's truly a case of falling in love again.

The joy is in the details, Thalia Zedek's gift for drama, bringing the righteous tumult of "Submerge" to a close with the line: "Waiting for the pillow that used to cradle your head", or the exquisite pacing of the last line of "Dead Molly": "Everything rolls...back...down...the...hill". "Brand New Vein" boasts the immortal "I taste the sweetness of life/and I lick off the knife". While it's easy to get sucked into the nightmare visions, it's the guitar work that brings you back. Twisting, churning guitar lines throughout, Zedek and Brokaw dueling and climbing mountains, ("Fast Piss Blues"), or paring it back, (soft chiming intro of "Bell", or the opening elegy of "Off To One Side"). Underpinning these sonic trips is the rhythm section of O'Brien and Johnson, by measures understated and titanic, as the occasion dictates. "Sad Eyes" was the song that initially hooked me, starting as a ballad, before departing with a solo just past the three minute mark that's pure transcendence. It's not the sprawling epic of most of these tracks, but in it's conciseness, might offer the most pure example of the band's beauty, and how four seemingly disparate people came together to become much more than the sum of its parts.

Matador 21, day two

Saturday saw a brief intersection with the great outdoors...Truly no better place to commune with a thunder & lightning frenzy than the outdoors balcony on the 16th floor.
After that particular slice of entertainment concluded, it was time to submerge once again in the concrete innards of the Palms.

Let's take a quick moment to thank not only the Matador folks, but The Palms (!), & mention that it was more of a photo shoot for an interiors magazine than a room. Very impressive...



Grogginess did not recede until the first notes were struck from Girls, (hailing from San Francisco). Their woozy psych pop decorated with lashings of feedback was the perfect tonic for one struggling to get their brains and motor skills in order.










Everyone has their biases, and my awaited moment of the weekend was the infrequent resuscitation of Come, from Boston. Fresh off a warmup gig at the Middle East in Cambridge, this would be the second and final performance of their 2010 outing, and they left nothing behind. Considering the interlocking guitar weaves of their songs, (think heavier/darker Television), it's really a testament that they can appear out of nowhere and be as tight as they are. For me, they were always more a force of nature than a band.

Suddenly, it was time for the one and only Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, which, for the uninitiated, is a trio that throws the basic James Brown stomp into a punk blender, led by a howling madman who will manage to namecheck the band hundreds of times within the set. Pure entertainment. Interesting that Mr. Spencer hasn't gotten his due for an advanced recognition of the Power of Branding way back in the '90's...

Supper was a tough call, and it was made at the expense of Perfume Genius, whom i had been looking forward to very much...

Cat Power hit the stage with only an electric guitar, kicking off with her take on the Rolling Stones "Satisfaction", before ceding the stage to the Dirty Delta Blues Band, and rolling into a more familiar set.
(PS: West Coasters, if you've never seen Cat Power, look up her date at the Henry Miller Library in Big Sur at the end of October. Should be a magical show...)






Superchunk, like Sonic Youth the previous evening, raised a flag for the oldsters, hitting the stage running and never looking back in a short set that mixed in some new stuff, but relied on their classics at opportune moments, including a slam/bang closing of "Slack Motherfucker" and "Precision Auto". Looking forward to seeing their whole set at the Wiltern Theater in L.A. later this month.



Spoon's set left me with mixed feelings...the music was razor sharp, the band was in form, and Britt Daniels was in his element. What held this back from being a weekend defining set, (for me), was the lighting setup. On the plus side, it seemed like they scavenged what was left of Pavement's overhead string lights for decorative purposes...on the not so plus side, the spotlights behind the band members shining directly into the audience were so overbearing I gave up after a handful of songs and watched the proceedings from the bar. After so many shows in a row, perhaps I was oversensitive, but it felt like my brain was being drilled into, and i could not discern what impact they hoped to achieve. In the vindication department, several times between songs, audience members could be heard screaming "lose the lights". And, quite frankly, this is a band with such a deep catalogue that they could have played with the house lights up, and it wouldn't have mattered. Notable high point of the set was a cover of the late Jay Reatard's 'No Time', that made up for the lighting shenanigans.

Capping off a lovely evening, and showcasing their newest album, were the inimitable Belle & Sebastian, who swelled the stage to almost 'Lyle Lovettl-esque' proportions. Any questions about their stature as a headliner were answered by a charming set delivered to an audience of devotees. If there will ever be another Smiths, in terms of audience adoration, this unit could be it. At one point in the set, Stuart Murdoch unleashed some autographed footballs into the audience, (rivalling the prowess he would demonstrate later in the evening at drunken hoops in the Hardwood Suite). The topper was bringing up random audience members onstage for their moment of glory, and then presenting them with medals...A classy, (and humorous), act all the way.

The post festivities featured brand new act Esben and The Witch leading off, with a powerfully hypnotic set.
Cold Cave and Dead Meadow followed to run things into the wee hours, but alas, without me...

Viva Las Vegas...

File under: Good God Almighty...These folks certainly know how to throw a party. To celebrate their 21st anniversary, Matador Records has put together a whopping shindig they call 'The Lost Weekend', in the City of Sin for October. Much love to FYF Fest for doing much of the heavy lifting, organization.wise. Should be a corker...

What's also been confirmed by the label, but not yet 'announced' is the reunion of Come, Thalia Zedek & Chris Brokaw's mighty Boston noisemakers from the '90's. Most of the press is focusing, (& rightly) on Robert Pollard's resurrection of Guided By Voices, and while sure to be of interest, it's Come that has my heart.

Which, of course, is not even to mention Pavement, Sonic Youth, Superchunk, Yo La Tengo, etc, etc...

Really looking forward to seeing Belle & Sebastian, Shearwater, Fucked Up, and Harlem for the first time.

Tickets went up this morning, and sold out in two (2) minutes. Luck was with me, & looks like we'll be reporting this one from the front lines. You will surely hear more about this as the time approaches...